


Blue

by The_Ghost_King



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: But It's not really graphic at all, Creative!Matsukawa, Fluff, It's like five sentences, Light Angst, M/M, Mention of Panic Attack, Poetry, like super light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 14:39:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11382261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Ghost_King/pseuds/The_Ghost_King
Summary: I want youI’ll colour me blueAnything it takes to make you stayOnly seeing myselfWhen I’m looking up at youHanamaki Takahiro is Star-like and Matsukawa Issei is helplessly and hopelessly in love with him.





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so. This is unbeta'd just so you know and it's based off of Troye Sivan's Blue (as you might have guessed.) 
> 
> Please enjoy

He was like poetry, which might sound like a stupid way to describe someone but Matsukawa couldn’t think of anything truer. He meant different things to different people but he was always beautiful, always perfect, always just what anyone needed. He could be funny, he could be dark, he could be confusing and make you realise that it’s best to figure things out from the start. He was different every day and Matsukawa was helplessly and hopelessly in love with him.

~

_You are star- like so_

_Blindingly beautiful so_

_unphantomable_

_~_

Another shitty haiku about someone who would never love him back. Another verse about how he was a star. It was stupid but Matsukawa couldn’t get himself to stop. Writing poetry was a sedative. It was his novocaine, it numbed him from an addiction. He was addicted to his best friend. Hanamaki Takahiro was always in full bloom. His hair was a rosy colour that reminded Matsukawa of cherry blossoms and it was never messy, always the same short cut, always equally beautiful. He talked to Iwaizumi about it. He talked about a funny, cute guy with pink hair and an amazing sense of humour going by the name Hanamaki Takahiro and because Iwaizumi listened to him he listened to Iwaizumi’s rants about a bratty child who was always dating people and always getting dumped, who was so in love with volleyball that he didn’t care about himself anymore. Who thought that he was only beautiful on the outside when he was beautiful in every and anyway. They understood each other’s pain being in love with someone too beautiful and far too bright for their dull selves to be capable of touching. It kind of made them sad to know that they didn’t really stand a chance. But at least they could be sad together, which, Matsukawa figured, was the saddest thing of all.

~

_You are beauty, you are grace, I’d gladly let you punch me in the face. (it’s not a kink or something, shut up)_

_~_

He had considered pick-up lines of all variety. He had considered things from serenades to memes. He was getting kind of desperate and realised that the only things stopping him from confessing to Hanamaki were his own fear of rejection and his own inferiority complex. Which were both, according to Yahaba,  ludicrous in every way, shape and form. Matsukawa was aware of this as well, to a certain extent, sort of. That didn’t stop him from being scared though, not at all. What did affect his view on the matter was that Iwaizumi and Oikawa got together after the Spring High and Iwaizumi told him that Oikawa had said that Hanamaki was head over heels for him. Matsukawa had been delighted to hear that his feelings were reciprocated so, as the artist he was, he started to plan one beautiful spectacle to blow the lovely boy he loved away (even if maybe Oikawa was wrong and Hanamaki would hate him, hate him, _hate him_. It would be fine, it had to be).

~

_There is a boy,_

_Who I just so happen to know,_

_With pink rosy hair and a mischievous laugh._

_There is a boy,_

_Who I just so happen to like,_

_Who thinks, just like me, in memes and the like._

_There is a boy,_

_Who I just so happen to love,_

_Who can make me smile,_

_Just by existing,_

_Because his existence is more than enough._

_There is a boy,_

_Who my universe revolves around._

_There is a boy,_

_Knowing him makes me feel a little proud._

_There is a boy,_

_And there will always be,_

_That same lovely boy,_

_With the last name Hanamaki._

_I Love You._

_~_

He wrote shitty poems and he wrote okay ones. He wrote inconsistent melodies and beautiful ones. He wrote stories and letters and he even tried to draw. He tried to capture Makki’s smile on paper but it never compared to the real one. He considered covering love songs but he knew that it wouldn’t be good enough. A second-hand copy of a cliché is not what Hanamaki deserved. He deserved something unique, a song, even if covered, that would _mean_ something. He stumbled around, always a little lost in thought. Trying to come up with something, with anything but it didn’t work out. Until a certain fateful day.

Matsukawa was walking towards his piano teacher's house and he heard the echo of a song from some nearby car.

_I want you_

He didn’t really think about it and he continued to walk. When he reached his piano teacher’s house he could hear him playing. It was quite the sad, melancholic song. Somehow it reminded Matsukawa of Hanamaki and his feelings for him. He wondered why though, as far as he knew their story wasn’t a tragedy and wouldn’t end up being one. He didn’t understand until his teacher started to sing.

_I want you_

_I’ll colour me blue_

_Anything it takes to make you stay_

_Only seeing myself_

_When I’m looking up at you_

Matsukawa rung the bell, the music stopped and after a minute or two, his teacher opened the door. “Hey Issei,” he said and then he seemed to halt, “why are you crying?” Matsukawa wondered about that too, why was he crying? He hadn’t even noticed until his teacher pointed it out. He wiped away his tears, he’d act as if nothing happened, that’s what he always did anyway. He said, “Hey  Teach,” as he stepped into the hallway, “could you teach me how to play the song you were playing before I came in?” His teacher nodded with curiosity glittering in his eyes and that was the beginning.

Troye Sivan’s _Blue_ was the foundation of Matsukawa’s idea. It was the sturdy set of beams that would keep everything together. The song reminded him of his relationship with Hanamaki and the possible future their relationship could have. As he pondered why it did so he played the piano, he drew, he painted and he wrote. He wrote haikus and limericks, sonnets - sometimes with and sometimes without iambic pentameter (damn you Shakespeare) - and serenades. He wrote songs and he lived for every melodic word that came from Hanamaki’s mouth. He was a little less focused in class and did things on auto-pilot during volleyball practice because his end vision mesmerised him. He bought glow-in-the-dark-paint and went out in the middle of the night to find the perfect spots for stargazing and sometimes he’d write poems under the cloudless night sky, under the light of millions of stars and the moon. With Hanamaki’s smile on his mind. Sometimes he thought of his eyes, alight with mischief and always so incredibly alive. Sometimes he wrote a poem just about some silly joke he had told Makki which had made him laugh, in the hope that if Makki ever read it he’d find it funny.

He was improving by leaps and bounds with playing _Blue_ and he was starting to memorise the lyrics, always with Hanamaki on his mind, in his thoughts, just around the corner. Always close, always near, always beautiful. He painted stars and oceans with normal paint and he painted entirely different things with the glow-in-the-dark-paint behind them. He painted stars and little clues and little easter eggs just for Hanamaki in glow-in-the-dark-paint because it was different and special and he was in love.

**_~_ **

****

**_H_ ** _ow are you, my love?_

**_A_ ** _nother dreadful day where you are,_

**_N_ ** _owhere near me,_

**_A_ ** _s always._

**_M_ ** _oving on beside me but without me,_

**_A_ ** _nother painful day._

**_K_ ** _ings and Queens will bow for you,_

**_I_ ** _have commanded them to._

**_T_ ** _ake me with you,_

**_A_ ** _s you walk towards another day,_

**_K_ ** _nights and Marschalks will part your way,_

**_A_ ** _s you go, without me._

**_H_ ** _ow are you, my love, today?_

**_I_ ** _still yearn for you, even after everything,_

**_R_ ** _eturn if you please, I will be waiting,_

**_O_ ** _n a little stroke of land on the bottom of the ocean with nothingness beside me._

_~_

Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night, gasping for breath, because what if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was stupid? What if he had fallen out of love with him in the time it took him to set this up? What if he thought Matsukawa was too intense? What if he found him creepy? He lay in bed in the middle of the night gasping for breath feeling like he was choking, as if the air was being sucked out of his chest, leaving a vacuum behind. His mum heard him and she helped him to breath and she reprimanded him for not taking his medicine for his anxiety, for his everything. He said he was sorry, but the medicine made him groggy and when he didn’t take it he felt Alive. He felt hurt and sad and regretful and sometimes on the particularly bad days he felt like jumping into the vast unknown and hoping it would never let him return home but when he didn’t take it at least he _felt_. His emotions, or rather, his hyper-awareness of them, was the only thing that kept him here and he wondered if losing that would mean losing himself. He wondered too if that was why he loved Hanamaki so intensely because Hanamaki made him _feel_ and maybe he loved him for the feeling.  When he could breathe again he’d  turn towards his mum and whisper, “I love him, I love him, I love him, _I love him_.” The whispering kept him grounded together with his mum running her fingers through his hair as she spoke not always the same thing but always along the same lines, to remind him, to make it extra clear. “Issei,” she’d start, “ love is a complicated thing, especially for people like us, who feel too intensely too quickly. But I’ve seen the two of you together and I know that what you two have is strong. It’s Young and Beautiful and Alive. It’s unimaginable how many times I’ve seen either one of you sneak glances at each other and there was always, _always_ warmth in your eyes. So calm down, go to sleep and finish your project. When you show him he will be beyond delighted. I’m sure.” Matsukawa would fall asleep soon after and he’d  dream of Blue and Pink and heavenly beauty.

_~_

_Love hits hard I know,_

_All your lights are red but I’m green to go._

_~_

He finished the paintings and he found the best stargazing spot. He continued to put the finishing touches on playing the song on the piano and he roped Iwaizumi and Oikawa into doing his bidding. They hung the paintings on the wall of the cabin on the mountain, which had a glass roof, and they moved a piano there. They laid out a blue carpet and bought bouquets of blue lilies. He had just the luck that a meteor shower was supposed to pass by soon and he invited Hanamaki to come watch it with him. Makki agreed and Matsukawa was on cloud nine.

It was the night of the meteor shower, the night which, in Matsukawa’s mind, would be filled with shooting stars, music, flowers and the lovely colour blue. So after school they went over to his house to make homework until the night set in. When it started getting darker they said goodbye to Matsukawa’s mum and got their bikes to start cycling towards the cabin. Hanamaki didn’t know that they were headed for the cabin though, he thought they were on their way to a random piece of land with a telescope from where you could see the sky and watch the meteors.  He was in for a surprise.

They had to walk the last metres to the cabin and Matsukawa felt like it would be a good idea to blindfold Hanamaki and seeing as Hanamaki was basically fine with every-and-anything he was led the last couple bit of the way in darkness. Hanamaki was still blindfolded when Matsukawa opened the door and when he turned on the lights and locked the door behind him. Matsukawa led him to the pile of pillows and blankets set up in the middle of the room. He helped him sit down and made his way over to the grand piano in the middle of the room. “You can take off the blindfold,” he told Hanamaki and he watched him as he did. At first, he blinked, then he looked around and his eyes widened, his cheeks were dusted pink. He took in the flowers, the paintings of flowers and oceans and Hanamaki himself and the glow-in-the-dark-paint underneath them showing the heart structures in each one of them, showing the kanji for his name worked into the paintings and then he looked at Matsukawa and the piano and his eyes widened even further. “Mattsun, what-what’s this all for?” he stammered and that was when Matsukawa played the first few accords of a Blue Song for a Pink Boy whom he loved. More than the sun loved the morning, more than starts loved the moon, more than the ocean loved the land. He loved Hanamaki Takahiro more, more, _more_ than anything or anyone he could ever love and he tried to convey all that and so much more with one song. With a few chords and a sequence of letters assembled and ripped apart to form words.

 

_I know you’re seeing black and white_

_So I’ll paint you a clear-blue sky_

_Without you I’m colour-blind_

_It’s raining every time I open my eyes._

He realised something as he sang. He released that the song hadn’t really reminded him of Hanamaki all that much. The song had reminded him of himself. It had jumped at his insecurities at his worries at his red lights when others were green to go. It jabbed at the black and white, the monochrome of his life. It almost mocked the rain and he sang it now, he sang it to Hanamaki because he knew that Hanamaki would understand. He sang it to him because he knew that Hanamaki would know what it meant. _I love you and I’m sorry because you’ll have to deal with panic and regret and pain and loneliness because I don’t work right but please_ please _allow me to try_. And he was somewhat desperate in his song and he was staring at Hanamaki, waiting for any sort of response, anything at all. He sucked in a breath and his fingers almost faltered when Hanamaki stood up but all he did was walk over to him and he sat next to him on the little bench in front of the piano and all he did was sit there. He hadn’t done anything but walk and sit and Matsukawa understood what he was saying. _I love you too and it’s alright, it doesn’t matter, I’m always here, I promise._ And with those reassuring words echoing in his mind he played the final few chords.

 

_I want you_

_I’ll colour me blue_

_Anything it takes to make you stay_

_Only seeing myself_

_When I’m looking up at you._

**_fin_ **

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I hope you enjoyed, Give me some feedback in the comments (if you want) and let me know if you want to read some more Matsuhana, maybe in this setting. idk?
> 
> Thank you for reading,
> 
> ~Leo


End file.
